


What the World Makes Us

by Jadedphase



Series: Who We Become [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, set directly after We Are Grounders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadedphase/pseuds/Jadedphase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have changed, their world has changed, and they’re hanging on by tiny threads supported by shaky hope and wavering strength. The morning could be the last thing they’ll ever see, and Jasper can’t help but think that he expected to spend his last night alive any way but alone.</p><p>Bellamy just can’t help but wondering why now, of all times, he is beginning to see Jasper as the friend he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the World Makes Us

The simple truth of it was that Jasper was a follower; he wasn’t a leader because the idea of that burden left him anxious and the possibility of lives depending on him was too much to stomach when he knew that not a lot of his ideas amounted to the best decisions made. But he was nothing if not loyal, Bellamy had to give him that; while the rest of the camp was scrambling to decide if they wanted to pick sides between himself and Clarke only Jasper seemed to be pacing in circles wearing his worry clear on his troubled expression.

Raven was injured and that was bad enough but Monty was still missing and he could tell that it was causing the lanky teen to unravel as he kept darting back to the wall of the camp to stare out between the breaks in the metal, then roaming back in a pattern that was beginning to drive Bellamy crazy.

He could do little to help Clarke with Raven, Finn was there watching and at her beck and call, and it felt as though he was trying himself to pull together the shattered mess of the unity that Clarke had broken with her insistence against fighting for their home.

Maybe it wasn’t the best plan but it might have been the only one they had; Bellamy wasn’t going to count on the open forest to provide any cover for them when that was the enemy’s home turf. All he was trying to do was keep people alive and even that was turning into an impossible task.

"Jasper," he called out when he couldn’t stand the sight of that circular pattern anymore, "help me check the back walls."

Something to do was better than losing their minds to the stress, Bellamy needed a moment to think anyway before he could sort out how to get things back on track; he could fell his control of the situation slipping between his fingers.

And that couldn’t happen because Clarke, strong as she was, still wasn’t used to the sort of world they lived in now; surviving was going to cost blood and Bellamy didn’t want it to be shed on their side of their people.

 

Jasper was there in an instant, eager at first then edging back in a nervous way that seemed to afflict him most of the time. He could count on two things; Jasper being eager to be told what needed to be done and to look lost when the answers weren’t clear.

The look on his face was more dire than usual though and Bellamy knew the cause, he tried to address it as simply as he could while they wove their way between people and in the direction of the back of the camp.

"We’re still going to find him, once the camp is safe; me and you."

Bellamy could see the flash of relief in Jasper’s eyes, that instant of doubt that maybe he had forgotten washed away and he nodded eagerly, his motions a hint quicker as he followed.

Jasper always followed, that was why Bellamy had singled him out initially; it was easy to see the traits that could be manipulated. Jasper was desperate to be noticed, to be important, to fit in; and Bellamy had thought it would make him easy to sway.

He hadn’t counted on Jasper being so impossibly determined to safeguard tose around him.

Watching him nearly get himself killed more than once for the sake of others and be the first to protest the idea of giving up had forced Bellamy to respect him; there was more heart to that awkward, clumsy teen than there likely was in the rest of the camp combined.

More hope too; a commodity that was as rare as gold.

 

"You think people will leave if Clarke does?" Jasper voiced hesitantly as he jolted over to the wall and climbed halfway up, peering over the top edge and downward beyond it to test the strength of the metal. It creaked but didn’t buckle, where as Bellamy couldn’t say the same of his own stomach at the question.

"She won’t," he answered with as much conviction as he could muster, "once she has time to think she’ll realize it’s more dangerous to be out there in the open. We’re safer here behind the walls."

Conviction had never been in short supply for Bellamy, at least not in himself, but the weight of lives lost had begun to sink into his skin and he had to fight back the doubts more than he wanted to admit.

"I hope you’re right; we need to stay together." Jasper on the other hand had just as much conviction as always, even in his leaders it seemed.

"You’re not going if she leaves?"

"No," the reply was marked by a perplexed expression that turned swiftly to that certain sort of restless motion that Jasper fell into when he wasn’t sure if what he was saying was the right thing or not but he couldn’t avoid saying it regardless. "I thought we were going to fight."

And probably die in the process; that was the part that Bellamy couldn’t say but could see in the nervous jerk of Jasper’s eyes off to one side. They both knew it but were trying to believe that it couldn’t really happen because that faltering hope was about all that was left other than dust and grime of their little camp.

"I like really Clarke," Jasper continued after a pause, "she’s like a sister to me. But she doesn’t need me as much."

The comment caught Bellamy off guard, at first ready to defend his ability to need very few things to get by but the words never found his lips; the last few hours had proven otherwise and maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to admit.

It was still hard to say out loud so it went unspoken, maybe Jasper had said it well enough already.

 

Bellamy stalked the wall looking for an escape from the heavy thoughts and it came in the form of Jasper hauling back up one of those footholds and missing his grip, yelping as his sneaker bounced off the smooth surface and it was only luck that Bellamy was close enough to catch the back of his jacket before he hit the ground.

For a moment they stood there, Jasper getting his footing back under him and on the ground while Bellamy finally let go of that grip. “You’re going to be a lot less useful if you break your neck before tomorrow.”

The tension lingered for a brief moment then Jasper burst into laughter and nodded in agreement, grinning sheepishly as he shrugged it off and kicked at the wall as though blaming it for his near-mishap. Bellamy joined him in that laugh, even though his was more a chuckle, as they both needed that release of restless energy.

It was a million miles away from the first days when Jasper had crept out of the way whenever Bellamy was nearby to avoid his wraith; the Earth had a way of changing people. Or maybe it was survival that brought out who they all really where under their own crafted walls of anger or doubt.

"Might be easier," Jasper admitted, "I’ve already done the spear through the chest thing and that wasn’t the best week I’ve ever had."

Bellamy felt a twinge of guilt at that, over the point when he had been the one who had given Jasper up for dead and left the job to Murphy. Back then the screaming had been too much, the stress it brought too strong and he thought any end to it was a good one.

Survival was best left to those fit for it and he had been too blinded by his own power to see that Jasper not only deserved the chance but was stronger than he was willing to give him credit for. 

If Murphy had succeeded in the task then they would have all likely been dead now, the bridge would have still stood and even if by some other twist in the story it had not there had been more than one other point when Jasper had saved a life, even Bellamy’s own.

If anybody had proven themselves to be a survivor it was Jasper.

Some of the guilt of it must have seeped into his expression because as Bellamy turned away to shift his eyes back to the wall he felt the snag of fingers at his shoulder.

"It doesn’t matter; we’re all different now."

Simple and quietly spoken, forgiveness was the strangest thing to Bellamy’s ears but such a desperate need that he had to take a breath to steady himself.

Just like that, without hesitation, Jasper was telling him that the past wasn’t as important as what it had made them all become and Bellamy had rarely felt so grateful over a few words as he did right then.

When he turned Jasper was right there, all reassuring smiles and the almost eye contact that was another familiarity; Bellamy sighed and nodded, dredging up a weak smile of his own in return.

 

"That looks rough," Jasper suddenly mentioned as he lifted his hand to the bruises beginning to show on Bellamy’s neck with a light touch that caught him off guard over the brush of contact in his personal space. Before he could reason it out Bellamy snatched hold of that hand and Jasper drew back with a shift from one foot to the other and an air of uneasiness over the transgression.

"Sorry," he spoke quickly and slid his eyes to one side, "I just didn’t think about it."

Which was often Jasper’s downfall; not thinking before he followed one impulse or another.

The same as impulse kept him talking, his shoulders lifting higher in a tense arch before they sank again into the boneless slump that settled over his entire thin form.

"I’m used to touching people, it makes them feel more real; not everything feels real since we got to the ground."

The pause was brief but the heaviness in Jasper’s eyes was all too obvious with that restless chatter; “And tomorrow I’ll probably be dead and nothing is okay right now. I thought about it before, when I was locked up, what it would feel like that night before they floated me; but it didn’t feel like this.”

Bellamy didn’t know how to respond to all of the information thrown at him, it felt so oddly personal and more than he expected.

"What did it feel like?"

"Safe?" Jasper struggled for the words as he stood rubbing his hands together. "If I was floated I knew how it would end and I don’t want to die but dying sudden is probably better than how I’m going to down here. Living is pretty damn painful at times but I’m still not ready to, and dying is going to be even more painful."

None of them had been ready for death on the Ark but Bellamy had to admit Jasper had a point even if it was morbid; being floated was quick and easy compared to bleeding out in the forest or being captured as a prisoner.

"Then don’t die," Bellamy replied, "Help me find Monty and put the walls back up, get everything back in order. That’s what you have to do; at least down here nobody can tell you that there’s a time limit on how long you’re alive."

Except that wasn’t true; the world around them demanded their lives, the natives who thought they did not belong there and even in the worst cases each other; the only real difference was that they could no longer count down the time limit by days and hours and it would come sudden when they least expected it.

It was terrifying having the freedom to live and die by something other than strict rules.

"We should head back," Bellamy finally announced, their walking had taken them to the farthest corner of the fences and even he wasn’t certain that it was safe to be there at that late hour.

It would end up being the worst luck if they were attacked there before the morning light even crested; as good of a shot as Jasper was it wasn’t going to hold off an entire army anymore than sheer stubborn will from Bellamy would.

 

"You had a thing with Murphy, didn’t you?"

"What?"

Bellamy physically stumbled a step and turned sharply back to where Jasper was only a few short steps behind him, sending the younger man scrambling back inches with eyes faintly panicked over having voiced the question.

"I was just asking," Jasper rushed to explain with a lift of his hands and the gun gripped in one as a show of hesitance, "I mean, it doesn’t matter or anything but I just thought maybe the whole trying to kill you thing was a little extreme even with what happened before."

But it wasn’t just that, no, there was something Jasper wasn’t saying but had lingering in his expression that he wanted to if he hadn’t been wary of the reaction.

"What did he tell you?" Bellamy had stopped walking and stood looking to Jasper with a guarded set to his jaw and that flat tone to his voice, careful in how he asked the question.

Trapped for a moment between answering and not knowing if it was wise to do so Jasper had a sudden need to do something with his hands and set the gun against the wall, shoving his palms together in a rubbing motion as though he was trying to warm them in the faintly chilly evening air. But as the long seconds past and Bellamy’s gaze did not break he finally had to admit defeat and confess.

"Not much, but he said he was going to kill me for what you did to him. Not what we did to him, but what you did." Jasper knew there was a stark distinction in the words because even if it was often overlooked he was surprisingly good at understanding peoples’ motives. "Maybe he was just blaming you for being the leader when he was almost killed but that wasn’t the look he had on his face; he was upset more than he was angry."

As frightening as it had been at the time it was also like watching someone break, very much the way he saw just a tiny hint of the same in Bellamy’s eyes when he’d spoken the words; and that was really all the answer Jasper needed.

"I told him it couldn’t be anything but what it was but he was so damn hellbent on trying to make it more than just time when there wasn’t anything else." Bellamy was caught between frustration and guilt with the words, "But it was my fault, hell, it was my fault for him nearly being murdered by the camp."

One of the more difficult flares of guilt to deal was that Murphy had once had faith in him and respect, maybe more, and it was just another situation Bellamy had taken advantage of.

"Was it? More than it was?"

"No."

The answer came back so suddenly that it caused Jasper to jump and neither of them honestly believed it, but no more questions came since whatever it had been was something that Bellamy had to carry and suffer the loss of; and Jasper didn’t want to be cruel in demanding details that were apparently more personal than he had expected.

While he had no doubt that it had been one-sided from Murphy’s point of view there was a hint there all too clear that Bellamy had at the very least valued something like friendship between them, maybe more.

"Why did you even ask?"

The scrutiny had returned to Bellamy’s eyes and it was Jasper’s turn to shift uncomfortable and lift his shoulders in a weak shrug while he reached to pick his discarded gun back up even though neither of them showed any signs of resuming the walk back towards the more populated part of the camp.

"I guess I wanted to know what I almost died for, and it’s a little better knowing it wasn’t just because of violence and hatred."

 

There was a weary sigh between them, spilling across Bellamy’s lips as he lifted his hands to run through his mussed hair in an attempt to center his focus after the night, and the conversation, had left it rattled.

Some part of Jasper refused much of what Murphy had told him, because they all had become more than they once had been and he wanted to believe that what Bellamy had become was so much better than the man who had first stepped off the drop ship full of reckless impulse and lust for control over the chaos around him.

If only blind faith were enough, Jasper could have changed the world a hundred times over already.

 

"This is one hell of a way to spend what may be the last night of my life," Jasper mused once the two of them had begun to walk once again, falling into step behind his apparently not so fearless leader. "For both of us. You should be with Clarke, but she’s not going to leave Raven while she’s recovering."

Because that’s what Clarke did, she put everyone else ahead of herself and sometimes forsake the ones who needed her without even realizing it; she could be the one to save them all but not without damning some of them in the process.

Bellamy only offered a snort to the words, he didn’t count on the idea of the Princess ever seeing in him what she saw in some other people and in part that could have been because he refused to allow it. They had to be strong and they couldn’t be as strong together as they were on their own, she was the sort of person that he respected and maybe even did feel something for but she was on a level that Bellamy could not relate to; they would never see eye to eye in most things.

And she was a free soul, with that came the burden of being an unhindered one as well; when the entire world came first before her there was no room for him to even come second.

"And who should you be with tonight; Monty?" Bellamy retorted less in an attempt to be cold as it was defensive to steer away from the subject of himself and Clarke because that was, yet another, connection Bellamy was not sure what to do with.

He heard something close to a sputter and sad sound that forced him to pause yet again and shift his eyes back to Jasper where he toyed with the handle of the riffle in a restless sort of motion.

"Well, yeah."

It wasn’t the answer Bellamy expected, mostly as it wasn’t his sister that Jasper mentioned, but it also wasn’t so wildly far-fetched as to be shocking either. Maybe a case of friendship turned affectionate or perhaps more that he simply did not understand whatever dynamic it was that Monty and Jasper had worked out with each other but that evening what did it matter; the next day could be the end of a million things so there was no reason to spend the night weighing over the personal lives of the people around him.

"But he’s out there somewhere," Jasper spoke so softly that it actually made something in the pit of Bellamy’s stomach ache for him in the same way that seeing fear or disappointment on the Princess’ face did.

He had to reassure him, if he did nothing else with the possible last few hours of his life Bellamy at least wanted to know he had given the awkward younger man some flicker of hope back.

"Just for tonight," an empty promise it may have been but neither of them cared, "I told you that you and I are going to find him."

Only now that he understood the full scope of it Bellamy knew he was going to have to find Monty because anything short of that was going to leave Jasper devastated in a way that may not have been possible to fix; he wouldn’t be able to watch one more person near him degrade into nothing from the cruel nature of fate.

If there was a way to fight even that lofty idea of things coming to pass on a set path Bellamy would have because it was just not in him to do anything but fight.

 

The silence stretched between them on the brief trek back into the chaos of the camp, even though it was slightly lessened as many people had given in to sleep for a handful of hours before more preparations would have to be made, and Bellamy took stock of it all knowing his evening would be an exhausting one.

The drop ship still hummed with life nearby, within it Clarke was no doubt up to her usual nearly unnatural talent of snatching people back from the murky brink of death, Raven would survive because Clarke would be too willful to allow her to die and Bellamy envied the strength of her power to do things like that. While he scratched out tiny furrows to hide those he could Clarke stood before the reaper and pushed him aside time and time again for the sake of those under her care.

So long as the camp had her they would get by; that knowledge made Bellamy feel only slightly better about the possibility that he could be facing that grim end himself very shortly.

To his left Jasper had begun to waver, drifting in a listless way inches apart and towards the corner of the camp where his makeshift home was, like a leaf nudged helplessly by the breeze more than a person willing to face the darkness alone. The marks left by the drag of his sneakers caught Bellamy’s eyes and that ache hit him all over again; the subtle shift had snapped into place.

Jasper had stopped being someone to manipulate and had become a friend; and a friend was something that felt as dire as oxygen under that dark sky above.

 

Bellamy did not catch back up with him until he reached the tent, spotting a glimpse of motion before he shoved the flap open and startled the single occupant of the space into nearly stumbling over one of the two cots tucked inside the canvas.

When Jasper turned towards him Bellamy didn’t have any words but was met with questions, and the only way to stop them was to take hold of his shirt with fingers that shook more than Bellamy wanted to admit and Jasper didn’t even seem to notice.

"I don’t understand what this means," Jasper could not be silent though and even if Bellamy had very few answers for him he knew that was the one that the younger man needed more than any of the others.

"It means we’re not alone tonight and tomorrow we’ll get up and fight because we have to."

And past that everything was uncertain, as uncertain as the future would always be there on the unforgiving ground. It was not the way either of them had ever assumed they might spend their final evening in the world, and with any luck they would still live to see more days, but it was something more than solitude could offer.

"I’m not Clarke, or even Murphy," Jasper managed in spite of the fact that he hadn’t drawn away from Bellamy’s grasp or really even protested it while those hands remained tangled in his shirt and promised to slide lower once he allowed it.

"I’m not Monty." Bellamy countered in a tone that was softer than Jasper could recall ever hearing from him, one that was more asking than demanding.

Permission came in a nod and a drop of tense shoulders, in expressive eyes resting upon Bellamy’s own guarded gaze in a way that was both warm and more surprisingly wise than he expected.

"And after tomorrow we’ll be different people than we used to be."


End file.
